For Honour
by Aryaofelvenkin
Summary: One shot. A warrior, shattered by a devastating lost. How would he cope with it?


Disclaimer: All characters except my OC are Talkien's work, not mine.

For Honour

Tired of war, tired of pain and the never ending fear, he was weary of the same brown grassland, day after day. Of blood spilled from friend and foe alike, all red, and warm and gore. Battle after battle, fight after fight. Pain. Blood. Fear. War.

Many of his comrades in arms were dead and in his heart he knew he was next. To fend off the orcs, Rohan's treasury had been emptied, the blood of its men staining the ground around and inside the Hornburg a muddy red. The very soul of the troops had been sucked dry. The siege was almost over. All was lost.

Then, on the dawning of the day, a white rider came with the sun. With him were two thousand strong, fresh troops that had come to the aid of Rohan. At the glimpse of hope, the men trapped in the city gathered for the last ride. Lead by their King, they mounted their weary steeds and the Horn of Helm's Deep blew forth once more. Never had it sound so pure and strong as than faithful day. Never were the men quite as without fear as that day. They were destined to triumph, and so they did. They poured out of the Glittering Caves screaming their war cries and charged all the way to Helm's Dike, slashing and hacking as they went.

They triumphed that day. It was only later; when it was over and they were safely at Meduseld again did this warrior awake from his terrible nightmare. For half the night, he sobbed. He cried for his comrades, he cried for the young men that perished under the cold night sky. He cried for himself, for having such foolish notions of honour. He thought that to fight well and without pity would bring him honour and raise his status up in his father's eyes. Too late did it occur to him that without the skills of a warrior, going into battle would be suicide.

His father was a battle hardened warrior and all his life, Baldric had trained to fight. But he was a naughty and wild child and many times he ran away, to play and folic with his friends. Now, in the space of two days, his friends and father was dead.

Baldric buried his face in his hands and rocked on his hunches. Wild cries escaped from his throat as he fought a desperate battle within himself. His world churned around him and his heart felt like its being ripped into pieces. He felt betrayed. Where was this honour that his father always spoke about? His father had held to it like a prayer and it was because of this honour that he went to fight in the first place. He should have stayed in the caves with the others. _And died like a coward? _A small voice nagged at him. _He would rather have gone down fighting than waste away from illness._ In his heart he knew, but his mind would not let him let go of the guilt.

He dug his nails into his own flesh, not caring about the rivulets of blood that flow down his arms and pooled around his knees. From his kneeling position he collapsed backward. Until he was lying spread eagle on the freezing stone floor. He hit the ground with his fists. Letting his grieve, anger and frustration pour out. It was only after he exhausted himself, that he slept.

His pain and suffering was not unnoticed, for Lord Eomer was close and he had heard the mourning of Baldric. Lord Eomer was more than a leader of his men. He was their friend and companion. Thus, it was only natural that he went to comfort Baldric as best he could. Baldric was very young, only twenty and two, and Eomer swore to watch over him as an elder brother. However, when Eomer went to Baldric the next day, Baldric merely shook his head and strode away. Baldric would not accept sympathy from any one, for he had took it upon himself to punish himself in the form of guilt. He barely ate or slept, and when he did rest, nightmares haunted him. At night, he would immerse himself in hard liquor and lay as one dead till noon the following day. Eomer looked on with worry growing in his heart.

Eomer, being of sane mind, was wary about approaching Baldric. He was in a dangerous state right then and he was aggressive to any that so much as gave him a pitying glance. Eomer decided that he would go to his sister for help. So, one afternoon, he stopped to talk to Eowyn while he was going to dinner.

"Good afternoon, dear sister!"

Eowyn looked at him suspiciously. "When you are sweet as sugar, you usually want something, dear brother. So, what is it this time?" Eowyn remarked with an elegant eyebrow raised.

Eomer had the grace to look sheepish and said, "One of my warriors has been having a bad time. He lost both his father and his closest friends in the Battle of the Hornburg and he is taking it really hard. I tried to comfort him but he just did not want to be comforted. Since you were always the gentler one, I was wondering if you could… you know get him to feel better or something. I really don't want to lose him in our next battle. He's good and with so many people dying, we just can't lose another one."

"Since you have asked so nicely, I'll try my best little brother." Eowyn smiled and Eomer pulled her into a hug before walking away, feeling lighter than he had arrived.

Eowyn sighed and taking a stack of neatly folded clothes, walked to Baldric's room. She knocked on the door and waited. Sound of shifting came and the door opened into a small crammed room. Baldric was surprised to see Eowyn and hesitated a moment before bowing and greeting her. Eowyn gently place her hand on is arm. Baldric glanced up with surprise.

"My brother told me about your loss. I am so sorry for you." Eowyn said softly. At her words, Baldric stiffened.

"I do not wish to talk about it. The wound is still fresh in my heart."

"This pain of losing someone close to your heart is unbearable, I know. But for the sake of everyone we must be strong enough to bear it. You are not the only one dealing with this kind of suffering, no matter what it may seem like to you. Baldric, you are a warrior; do not let this dominate you entire life. Fight." Eowyn was speaking so quietly, she was almost whispering, but her voice rang with emotion and her eyes were red. Yes, she too knew of the pain of losing someone close. Her cousin had died but few weeks ago and the grieve was still strong.

"Forgive me, my lady, but it feels like my heart is ripped out. I feel nothing but emptiness." Baldric spoke hollowly. He started to close the door, but Eowyn stepped into his room and slide the door close behind her. She walked to the small table in the middle of the room and sat.

"I would like some tea, if you would" she said pointedly. Baldric was about to protest, but thought better about it and did his lady's bidding.

Eowyn accepted a mug of tea and sat there silently. She knew that Baldric needed to release his thoughts and she was waiting for him to speak. Soon enough, he broke the silence.

"When we arrived at Helm's Deep, I wanted my father to stay in the caves. I was afraid. Afraid that he was too old to fight, he had broken his legs once and he was left forever limping after that. He had actually already retired and wanted to do some farming, spent time with his beloved garden and he wanted me to take over his place in the Rohirrim. So I did. He always taught me to cherish life and that to fight of honour and my country was the only path a warrior should take."

"But then, at Helm's Deep, he refused to go into the caves with the rest of the elderly. He said that he would rather die fighting for his country than die cowering in the caves. I argued with him, but he wouldn't listen. No, my father was stubborn and he took up his rusty sword and shield. He was my father, how could I refuse him?" Baldric paused and he swallowed hard before continuing. "I should have forced him… I should have! I saw him die right under my eyes... I was not able to reach him… I was too late! Then, my dear friend died too… He died to save me… Oh lord! It's all my fault… I could've stopped it, but all I did was to stand there like an idiot or a fool! I could've saved them… I could've…" At this point, Baldric was sobbing brokenly. He covered his face with his hands and rocked back and forth on the ground.

Eowyn went to him and gave him a sisterly hug. She patted his back and gave him as much comfort as she could. When he finally released all his tears, he sat there for a long time, just thinking. And Eowyn sat with him, in silent memories of the ones who have gone.

It was evening when they uncurled and stood. Eowyn looked at Baldric and asked: "Are you alright?" Baldric nodded his head, still silent. Eowyn turned to go, just when she stepped out of his room, Baldric said in a low voice, "I know why my father had to go. He was fighting for his honour, to protect his country and loved ones. I know and I am proud to call him father. I too will fight, for honour, for my country but most of all I will fight for vengeance."

**The end**


End file.
